Redemption
by lionesseyes13
Summary: The night after the battle against the White Witch in the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, Peter and Edmund have an important discussion.


Redemption

It was the night after they had defeated the White Witch, and Peter couldn't sleep. He would have liked to have blamed that fact on the feast that Aslan had conjured from nothing for them all to celebrate their victory, but he knew that the real reason he couldn't sleep was because tomorrow they would be traveling to Cair Paravel for the coronations of him and his siblings. How could he possibly be expected to serve as High King when he had already failed in his duty to look after his younger brother and sisters? After all, he realized even if Edmund didn't that he was the one who was truly responsible for his little brother betraying them to the White Witch…

"Peter." A voice broke through the darkness in the tent he was sharing with Edmund, piercing through his musings as effectively as a sword tore through flesh. "Are you awake?"

"How could I possibly answer that if I'm asleep?" replied Peter, rolling over to face his brother and wishing with a desperate fervor that his tone sounded as gently teasing as it had before the war had caused him to alienate Edmund with his seriousness, before Edmund had started to attend the same boarding school as him and been consumed by jealousy, and before all the walls had been built between their hearts. Unfortunately, Peter suspected that, even in Narnia, nobody could turn back time.

"You sleep talk," Edmund pointed out, though he seemed less eager to catch Peter in an error than he had been before he betrayed them.

"I do not such thing," protested Peter.

"Oh, yes, you do," Edmund snorted. "You just don't know, because you're asleep when you do it. Still, I'd rather share a tent with a sleep talker than a snorer. You can never get any sleep with someone making their own thunderstorm next to you."

"I've had to get used to sleeping with a snorer," commented Peter. "At boarding school last year, my roommate snored loudly enough to awaken the dead."

Edmund chuckled softly, and Peter recognized with a jolt that he had forgotten how musical Edmund's laughter sounded when it didn't have a bitter, mocking edge to it. For a long moment, the two estranged siblings relished the brief bond that a shared joke, however weak, forged between them, and then Edmund muttered, his crimson cheeks glowing like beacons in the darkness, "I-I wanted to apologize for my behavior, Peter. It was wrong of me to bully Lucy so much about the world she had discovered in the wardrobe, even if I did think it was madness at first. It was beastly of me to lie about getting into Narnia earlier, and you have every right to despise me for doing something so cruel to my own sister. As for my turning you all into the White Witch, I don't even know if the English language has words atrocious enough to describe my actions. Worse still, all I can really say in my own defense is that I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize, Ed." Impulsively, Peter clasped hands with his younger brother, but even that spontaneous gesture of affection could not knock down the barriers that had developed between them over the past year, nor could it bridge the emotional gap that still separated them. "Lucy, Susan, Aslan, and I forgave you before you asked for our forgiveness. We all love you, and love forgives without having to be asked."

"I don't mean to make light of my crimes, but I didn't really intend to any of the horrible things that I did," Edmund went on hesitantly, his fingers tightening around Peter's, as if his older sibling was the only rock he could cling to in a tumultuous ocean of guilt. "I picked on Lucy because I was in so much pain from all the older boys taunting me at school, and I thought that if I could make someone else suffer as I had, I would feel better, when, in reality, all that happened was that I felt uglier and more friendless than before. As far as the lie about getting into Narnia goes, I just was terrified that you and Susan would tease me if you knew the truth, and, after last year, I couldn't bear any more mockery-"

After this, Edmund couldn't continue, because his slender frame was heaving with uncontrollable sobs. In the blackness of their tent, Peter could just glimpse silver streams of tears trickling down his brother's cheeks, and his heart was ripped asunder at this sight.

"Cry all you want, Edmund." Though he meant to be soothing, Peter found that the words stuck in his throat like nails, and he longed to be as talented at consoling people as gentle Susan or compassionate Lucy. "I'm here for you, and I only wish that I had been there for you more this past year. The first year of boarding school is rough for everyone, Ed, and it's usually the stupidest older boys who torment the cleverest new boys like you the most out of spite because they know that they will never be as intelligent as you. Truth be told, I should have paid more attention to you and to your needs at school last year, but I was too busy with studying and sports to really notice your plight, especially because I was never bullied my first year as much as you were since I was never as smart as you." Swallowing the mountain that had suddenly formed in his neck, he concluded awkwardly, "I'm sorry for being blind to your pain when, if I hadn't been, things might have gone so differently for us all."

"It wasn't your fault," Edmund argued, and, even in the dark tent, Peter could see him shaking his head stubbornly. "Part of the reason I was so miserable at school and everywhere else was because I was envious of you. You're so perfect—always getting top marks and winning sports games for our school. All the teachers and students expect me to be like you, and then when I can't be like you, since nobody can be like you, they get mad at me when they don't understand that if I could, I'd be exactly like you, but I just can't be. Believe me, I've been trying ever since my first memory when I saw you walking around, and I wanted to do that to, instead of lying around drooling."

"You don't have to be jealous of me, you know. You proved how much your intelligence was worth when you thought of destroying the White Witch's wand when everybody else would have just attacked her instead and would have been transformed to stone for their pains," Peter said, hoping that this was the right way to respond, because if it wasn't he might never repair his relationship with his only brother, and he was starting to believe that nothing would be more tragic than that. Finally comprehending how agonizing it must have been for Edmund to constantly stand in Peter's shadow and never have any sunlight of his own, Peter added, "No matter what you think on the contrary, you should be yourself, Ed, because you are wonderful when you aren't desperately striving to be someone you are not. Besides, as I said earlier, you are smarter and funnier than I'll ever be, so there's no need for you to dull yourself to be as stupid and grim as me."

"You're grim, but you aren't stupid." Although he couldn't see Edmund roll his eyes, Peter could tell by his brother's tone that Edmund had done so. "After all, you receive marks that are every bit as good as mine."

"Yes, but I study for hours in order to earn them, whereas you barely have to try to receive excellent marks," pointed out Peter, feeling a slight smile curve his lips upwards. "As such, you are the clever one, not me. My talent really lies in athletics, and, truth be told, if I didn't feel the need to constantly set you and the others a good example, I probably would never have put so much effort into my schoolwork. Of course, perhaps I was so focused on setting you and the others a good example that I ended up being a bad one because I was so absorbed with other responsibilities that I thought I had to attend to that you just fell at the wayside."

"Don't blame yourself for my actions," Edmund established tersely. "I made all my own choices, and you didn't force me to do anything."

"Ed." Not knowing how to express the tornado of remorse, relief, love, sorrow, and happiness whirling around inside of him, Peter shook his head. "The moment that the White Witch came into the camp demanding your blood because every traitor's life belonged to her even if the offense hadn't been committed against her was the worst of my entire existence. A million memories of us playing, laughing, talking, and fighting raced through my mind, and I understood that, no matter how much I sometimes think I hate you, I love you. Even if you were a traitor, I couldn't imagine living without you, and I didn't even truly want to try. I wanted nothing more than to take your place with the White Witch somehow—"

"Oh, but you couldn't have," observed Edmund in a voice so hushed that it was barely audible. "After all, you weren't a traitor, so you couldn't have suffered a traitor's death for me however much you wanted to do so."

"I know," Peter agreed just as quietly. "That's why I had never felt more hopeless and helpless in my life."

"Only Aslan could have died for me," whispered Edmund, squeezing his brother's hands. "Since He the one the White Witch most feared and most wanted to kill, He was the only replacement she would have accepted for me. Similarly, because He was the only one of us who was without sin, He was the only one fit to die for my sins. You see, it was only because He was sinless and willingly suffered a traitor's death for another that He was able to rise again and wake up all those the White Witch turned to stone, thereby ruining the White Witch's grip upon us all."

"I wasn't aware that you knew that Aslan died in your place," Peter mumbled, biting his lip. "Susan and Lucy told me what they witnessed, but we all thought it best not to upset you by explaining to you what happened…"

"You don't need to explain what occurred to me," interrupted Edmund. "I don't have to be told what I already knew from the moment that I saw Aslan approach the White Witch to work out an arrangement to avoid my execution. With Aslan, you have to accept that most of the time you know even if you haven't been told just because you have a feeling that you sense ultimately stems from Him."

"Knowing that Aslan died for you must be awful, even if He did manage to rise again," Peter remarked, chewing on his lip so hard that it bled. "I'll bet the guilt is crippling."

"That's the funny thing," murmured Edmund, his ivory teeth shining in the black tent as he grinned. "The guilt should be crippling, but it's not. You see, I know somehow that Aslan wanted to suffer a traitor's death for someone else's sake precisely so that He could be resurrected and awaken all those who had been turned to stone. I also understand somehow that Aslan didn't just die for me and my sins; He died for all of us and all of our sins. That means that the responsibility for Aslan's death is divided among all of us, and I can bear my portion of the guilt. Of course, Peter, since Aslan died for us all, that means that He redeemed not just me, but everybody. Anyone who wants to accept Aslan's love can be forgiven."

"I guess that means that I don't have to feel guilty about driving you away from our family, then?" Peter asked, his mouth twitching into a faint smile.

"Exactly." Edward's eyes gleamed at him through the darkness. "When Aslan talked to me after he arrived here, he said that He had forgiven me, so all I had to do was forgive myself and forgive others. Personally, I figure that is decent advice for everybody to follow."

"It definitely is." His smile broadening, Peter mussed his brother's hair, ignoring Edmund's grumbling as he did so. "Anyway, I want you to know that I always loved you, Ed, even when I was yelling at you. Just because I have difficulty expressing the love I bear for you, that doesn't mean my love for you doesn't exist."

"I know," answered Edmund, his manner wry. "After all, when I betrayed you and the others to the White Witch, I wished to see you humbled, but I didn't want you to be truly destroyed. I was just so jealous of you that I thought the only way to bring myself up was to lower you, and I could only lower you by serving her. You don't need to explain to me how love can get all tangled up with anger and pride, because I understand that better than anyone else, Peter."

"It's dreadful to think that I don't have pure love for my brother." Miserably, Peter shook his head, as he felt bonfires of shame ignite in his cheeks.

"Nobody except Aslan has pure love for anyone," Edmund informed him softly. "That's why only Aslan could die for us, and that's why only in Aslan can any of us find our redemption. We're alive, Peter, we love each other still, and we've forgiven one another. All praise is due to Aslan for those facts."

At this point, a word recited automatically at the end of prayers in England surged to the tip of his tongue, and, finding that it contained more meaning than it ever had for him before, he breathed, "Amen."

"Amen," echoed Edmund, and it was clear in his voice that he felt a similar reverence as Peter did.

The two of them were silent for a minute, reflecting on all Aslan had sacrificed for both of them so that they could forgive themselves and forgive each other for their sins. Then, Edmund asked, "If we're to be kings in Narnia, do you suppose that we'll ever return to England."

"I think so," admitted Peter, though he hoped that they wouldn't. "I don't suppose that we can live in a world we weren't born in forever, but I do pray that we'll be here for a long time. It's amazing here, especially now that winter is over. Of course, if we spend too much time here, we'll miss some of the school you love so much."

"I don't think you have to fret about that," Edmund reassured him dryly. "Time doesn't seem to pass here the same as it does in England. In fact, it appears that all the time you spend in this world counts as nothing in ours, because on both occasions that Lucy went into the wardrobe and the one time I went in with her, none of our time went by. Zero multiplied by one million is the same as zero multiplied by one, and so it wouldn't matter if you spent a million minutes or just one in Narnia, because it would still be the exact same time in England when you returned."

"That's eerie." For a second, Peter wondered if his brain would explode trying to accommodate this revelation. Once he had managed to integrate this astounding data into his head, he recalled his and Susan's discussion with Professor Kirke. Chagrined, he said, "You really are smarter than me, since I couldn't even figure that out with a hint from the professor."

"I'm clever enough to be a professor," stated Edmund smugly.

"Go to sleep," ordered Peter, deciding to take advantage of his position as the elder sibling to shut his brother up. "We have to be well rested for our coronation tomorrow."

"Of course, Your Majesty." As Edmund rolled over, Peter could discern from the playful note in his brother's voice that the walls between them had finally come tumbling down and the gulf between them had been breached at last. "We must get our beauty sleep, for we wouldn't want anyone to guess that we had just fought a battle. That would cause a tremendous scandal."


End file.
